


Crying a Whole New Lagoon

by jadeykitties



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Atypical Melodrama, Canon Typical Slapstick and Hijinks, Canon Typical Snarky Narrator, M/M, Post-Married to Money
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadeykitties/pseuds/jadeykitties
Summary: Plankton's schemes have left Mr. Krabs heartbroken, and pining for a life together he believes they can't have. Meanwhile, Plankton's marriage to Karen might just be falling apart as she grows closer to Sandy. What is a copepod to do?





	1. Prologue - Centre of Unthinkable Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I started like three years ago after watching Married to Money, and then immediately kept putting off the entire time. I have an outline for every chapter and a planned ending. I've put it off too long, so here's hoping posting the first chapter will give me the strength to finish it. Ideally, will add tags as they become more relevant.

Cashina was beautiful, Mr. Krabs had thought. Not just because she was a seemingly sentient stack of cash with even more money dolled up in the shape of hair on top of her head, already an appealing concept by itself. And not just because she was small and green with accents of red, in lipstick and bows. Well, maybe she had been beautiful because of all that. But there was something _ else _ to it that he felt in his knees, his aging over-the-hill knees. Maybe what made her so beautiful - so appealing to him - was the elegant, demure air to her. Or even the charming, sweet, and delightfully coy way she spoke to him. Or maybe it was just the promise that he wouldn't be alone anymore, and that someone was actually interested in him. 

But being with Cashina made him feel like a younger lad again. The whole relationship in general reminded him of being in high school, just without a majority of the things he hated about high school like the bullies or the constant work. It was fitting enough, seeings how he was naive enough to think that a relationship with someone he thought he knew for only like a week at best could last a lifetime. When in truth, there was nothing but betrayal and drama looming at the horizon the second he met her.

Just like being a high schooler, he was blinded by adoration and couldn’t see the red flags through the rose tint of the hearts in his eyes. But he wanted to impress her, and he wanted to be just as charming as he saw her as. He wanted to be a real gentleman, pulling her chair out for her and holding open doors. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and just wanted to spend every moment he could with her. 

Not that any of that even mattered, at least not anymore. It wasn’t real, none of it was. Well, nothing that would have mattered in the greater scheme of things. She wasn't real, and the relationship wasn't real. It was all just a ruse and Krabs got played. _ Like a song on the world’s smallest violin. _ Cashina was nothing more than just _another _ machine piloted by the desperate and stubborn Plankton. A ploy to seduce the Krabby Patty secret formula out of Krabs. And of course Krabs would just have to live with that, while Plankton would probably go on to act as if nothing significant had happened between them. Typical.

As Plankton left the hotel room a room service waiter that had been coming up to deliver a platter of food for the would-be couple, had been standing awkwardly in the doorway. After he finished observing the rambling copepod’s departure, the waiter sat next to Krabs on the love-seat as the miserly crustacean wept. This admittedly distracted Krabs from his misery, if only for a brief moment in time.

_ "Oh, hey buddy. Although your wife just ran out on you..." _

Maybe the details were a little... off, Krabs had thought to himself when the waiter initially began to speak, those deceiving words of comfort, but he certainly wasn't one to turn down any gracious words of reassurance and kindness from strangers being given out for free. Especially not from the hapless waiter who just happened to witness his latest heartbreak... 

_ "You still have to tip me." _

... And it might have been a bit naive of Krabs to hope for some kind of sympathy from a stranger during work hours, but he was under the opinion that if you're going to work at a place like_ The Honeymoon Hotel _ the least you could do is pretend to offer some kind of reassurance in a situation like this one. It's not like it woulda killed ya, and it's not like he couldn't have handled just one more lie tonight. 

Still, after he gathered what remained of Cashina - because he'd be a fool to give up a free pile of cash, no matter how broken-hearted he may have been - he had made sure to leave a tip for the waiter. Flipping only a nickel in his direction as tip, out of spite. Not that he would have been extraordinarily more generous under better circumstances but he'd at least briefly think about _ maybe _ giving him a bigger tip for five seconds, or even be far more amiable about only tipping a nickel at least. 

Krabs hopped down from his side of the love-seat, leaving the waiter alone where he sat with the soup and a nickel. Leaving the hotel room and _The Honeymoon Hotel_ behind him, and everything else that happened that night. And the last few days too. And ideally, forgetting everything that happened. But he understood these things and he knew better than that, he wasn't going to forget that easily. And he'd go home, and live with the memories and the thoughts and the confusing feelings. 

"_ Alone, of course, _" Krabs thought bitterly to himself.

As soon as Krabs stepped outside of the hotel he saw his boatmobile, parked out front. With all of those stupid decorations to celebrate a ridiculous fake marriage that made him feel sick to look at. Words painted in garish red paint on the back of his boat reading "just married" staring him down, mocking him - what a laugh! He couldn’t do anything about the paint tonight, but with a _ snip! _ of his claws he quickly cut the ropes that tied those dreadful, metallic, noise-making decorations to his boat. 

Opening the door and climbing in, he just sat in the driver's seat and took a deep and pitiful breath. He didn't bother turning the ignition key, just sat and thought.

Plankton was always trying to steal the formula, and coming up with the most desperate of schemes to meet that end. It's not like it was the first time anyone had fallen for one of those schemes in his efforts to get the formula, even though someone would always figure it out or he'd expose himself before it was too late. And it's not like it isn't the first time Plankton's tried seducing someone for the formula, either.

But this was different. This wasn't dating someone's mother in hopes of getting the formula, this wasn't building a robot duplicate that was somehow convincing enough to fool his employees, it wasn't winning employment of Spongebob in a game of poker, or manipulating him through friendship, or any of Plankton's hundreds of other schemes. This was Plankton himself seducing Krabs with an obsession he's had for years. An obsession that Plankton himself introduced him to! 

No, it was more than that; This was fabricating an entire new identity and relationship. And Krabs fell for it; _ hook, line and sinker. _

Even though Cashina couldn't have possibly loved him, because she wasn't real, some part of him hoped that at least the one controlling her might have. The one behind every action, every line... the vows and the I Dos... Krabs felt a twist in his gut thinking about it. He thought about how Plankton was behind that tiny little microphone, saying every word he had once thought had belonged to Cashina. He thought about Plankton being the one behind all the flirting. And it was pathetic, he thought, but there was a part of him wanted Plankton to be sincere. That he wanted Plankton to... 

... _ That he wanted Plankton to feel that way about him? _ To be loved, to be desired, as himself and not as the holder of the formula. By _ Plankton _, of all the people under the sea...

What had he hoped for when he asked Plankton if he felt anything? And what did he honestly expect to happen? Did he think Plankton would suddenly announce that he'd fallen in love with Krabs? Or that Plankton would forget all about his marriage with Karen, his precious computer wife, and run away with him? File for divorce, just like his parents did when they were kids? Or give up on trying to get the formula from him? Did Krabs _ honestly _ think that he could live happily ever after with Plankton? 

... What would it have even been like, anyway?

He tried to picture it. He'd wake up in the morning, he'd look over and Plankton would... would he be sleeping in the same bed as him or would he have his own, smaller, bed on the nightstand? He'd be the first thing he saw in the morning, either way. They'd sit at the table in the dining room and eat breakfast together, the two of them... and Pearl, his darling daughter. Like a real family. They'd ask each other how the other slept, maybe show a little PDA... maybe in the form of a little kiss, and Pearl would exclaim that they're embarrassing her even though it would be just the three of them... Then Pearl would head off to school while Krabs and Plankton... would go to work. At the Krusty Krab and Chum Bucket, respectively. Right? Or maybe Plankton would stay home and... _ and _...

Feeling another twist in his gut, Krabs slouched, bumping his head against the steering wheel repetitively. There's no way it could have worked out. How can he be so naive and... and... _ and stupid _, sitting here, fantasizing about a life with Plankton that is just... just impossible, after everything that's been said and done in their lives. He needed to get home, anyways. He could feel sorry for himself and fantasize about how things could have been once he was home. 

Taking another deep breath to center himself, he finally turned the key in the ignition and as the boat rumbled to life he shifted gears to make that inevitable drive home. The drive was quiet, with very little other drivers out so late and the cool currents of the water nipped at his face in a way that only served to make the night feel all the more dramatic and unforgiving. Really, it felt like a scene in some cheesy romantic comedy film he wouldn't care to admit he would enjoy, but in real life. 

The difference is that he is not as certain he would get that same kind of happy ending in the climax of the film - and he was in just the right state of mind to believe he wouldn't have deserved one, either.

* * *

"Hi, Daddy!!"

As soon as he walked through the door, Krabs was greeted by his daughter, who had been sitting in the rocking chair in front of the door. Pearl had looked up at him for a moment while greeting him, only to resume focusing on what she was doing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She was gently rocking in the chair while knitting, a hobby she had apparently picked up but never mentioned when or how to him. He likely would have assumed that she picked it up from him if not for the fact that she didn't exactly think the fact her dad liked to knit was cool. 

"Pearlie?" Krabs mumbled in a quizzical tone before he turned his head to read the wall clock on the other side of the room. "What are ye still doing up so late, sweetheart?"

"Oh, you know. Couldn't really sleep, so I started knitting a little to tire myself out, and then I mighta lost track of the time, so-" Pearl interrupted herself, placing a flipper on her cheek inquisitively- "Hey, hold on a minute, Daddy! Where's Cashina?"

Krabs swallowed nervously. Oh, boy. Words could not describe how excited he was to have to, nay, _ be able _ to tell his daughter everything that happened earlier. And by that we mean he's not excited at all. What would he even say? What could he say about this complicated, stressful situation at hand? How would he explain? That what they both thought was to be her stepmother was actually just Plankton in disguise all along? 

"Well, I, er... Ye see, Pearl, as it turns out you, um... aren't... getting.. er, don't _ have _ a- a stepmother, after all?"

"What do you mean I'm not getting a stepmother? I was there at the wedding and everything, I watched you exchange vows! How could I not have a stepmother after that?" a pause, and a skeptical squint as she tilted her head in thought before continuing her thought process, "Are you trying to tell me she was, like, murdered during your honeymoon or something?"

Krabs paused, a look of confusion and concern clear on his face.

"What, no? Pearlie, what have ye been watching to think- no." Krabs scratched the back of his head, nervously. "It was, um. It turns out it was all just a scheme by Plankton, so... uh..."

Now it was Pearl's turn to pause with a look of confusion and concern.

"Wait, so you married Plankton?"

"I, uh, I suppose so? ... he walked out though so I, I dunno." Krabs rubbed one of his arms with his free claw and looked down at his wooden floor. "Actually, I think it probably wasn't legally binding, since he used a fake identity and everything,"

Groaning, Pearl put her knitting needles and her work in progress - whatever it may eventually become - on the end table next to the rocking chair. She crossed her flippers in indignation and rolled her eyes.

"Great! I finally warm up to the idea of you getting remarried and it turns out you married THAT creep! And he doesn't even want to step up to the plate and be a stepfather, and..."

Pearl paused again.

"Wait a minute," she began with a leap to her feet and immediately pulled her smaller, crustaceous father into a big hug, "Oh, goodness! Daddy, I'm so sorry!"

She held him in her flippers for a few moments, and all Krabs could do was sigh as he leaned into the hug. It was brief, but it did bring him some small comfort. When Pearl set him back down onto the wood floor she took a small step back with one flipper on his shoulder as she looked down with him with sympathy in her eyes.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll probably be fine," Krabs mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, "I'll see ye in the morning, try and get some rest, me wee beluga."

So he turned and started to head up the stairs.

If he were to be more honest about the whole thing, Krabs felt terrible. Maybe the worst he's felt in more than a decade. And it would probably be more than evident if you looked at him for longer than a few seconds. He was tired, his heart ached, and he just did not know where to go from here. But he didn't want to worry Pearl, his sweet darling daughter, any more than he already had tonight. He's done more than enough moping during her lifetime, and he didn't need to subject her to any more of it. So he decided that he was just going to have to tough it out and be a man. 

But he was also tired, so very tired.

All he wanted to do now is to lie in bed, sleep for a few days... or maybe a week... _or maybe a year_... and feel sorry for himself. Okay, maybe he won't sleep for longer than necessary. He has a business to run and a teenage daughter to look after. But maybe while lying in bed he will fantasize a little - or maybe a lot, he wasn't sure yet - about living a life he could probably never have. With a man who definitely would never want to be apart of it. Even if he felt stupid for wanting it, and _stupider_ for even entertaining the idea for more than a few seconds.


	2. Lying on The Blade of An Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the wedding, Plankton contemplates.

So things hadn't exactly gone according to plan last night.

But it was a brand new morning, and Plankton had much planning ahead of himself if he wanted another shot at the formula. So like any self-respecting villain, he would start with a hearty breakfast to fuel his mind. And with that thought at the forefront of his mind, Plankton had decided that he would pour himself a little bowl of bite-sized Kelpy cereal. Of course, it should not go without mentioning that a bowl of cereal would be, of course, low-effort but nutritious to a groggy mind nonetheless. He was certainly in no mood to fuss about in the kitchen, trying to prepare anything else with more steps than pouring a thing or two into a bowl and immediately slurping it up like a neanderthal.

(He could have probably asked for Karen to prepare something more substantial for him in a pinch, had he actually thought of it.)

The only bowls he had were from a little dollhouse set that Plankton had bought solely for the tiny furniture he thought he could make use of around the Chum Bucket, and the cereal itself wasn't _technically_ ordinary Kelpy brand cereal - let alone even on shelves anywhere. Instead, it was a perfectly ordinary box of store-bought Kelpy cereal that was immediately crushed into significantly smaller bits as soon as the purchase made it home. He had bought the cereal purely for his own consumption, even though it would ordinarily be much too big for him to consume fresh out the box, and then shoved the crushed bits into a series of little homemade downscale boxes that Karen made during one of her silly little _craft_ sessions. 

As soon as he had his breakfast sat in front of him, Plankton mindlessly started shoveling tiny plastic spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth with one hand, and drumming on the table with the other as he began to think over last night's events. He would need to figure out where to go from here, and so much more, but metaphorically speaking his mind was still lagging from sleep.

And just at that moment he could hear the subtle, yet still audibly distinct, sound of his notably sarcastic computer wife's mobile wheels rolling into the room against the kitchen linoleum. After twenty-six years together, of course he'd become accustomed to the sound to the point he'd be able to recognize it anywhere.

"Good morning," Karen greeted as she sat at the table with her cup of coffee.

"Can't talk right now, Karen, I'm busy contemplating."

He says this, but immediately turns to look at her cup of coffee. And so he starts _thinking_ about the cup of coffee. Karen didn't always drink coffee - well, technically she _still_ doesn't drink coffee since she technically can't drink it at all. But lately she started going through the _motions_ of activities that any organic, carbon-based life-form might go through in their day-to-day life. 

Including things like getting coffee in the morning, even if instead of drinking it like any fish or mammal she'd analyze the substance with her scanner and periodically pour it into her mobile monitor's gas tank. She claims that she loves hot chocolate, but Plankton knows that she couldn't taste hot chocolate even if she wanted to. And Plankton found that _odd_.

"What?" she turned her monitor to look at him, pausing only to take a note of what he was doing before continuing, "Oh, of _course_ you are."

This broke him from his coffee-themed reverie and Plankton turned back to his cereal. Karen's sudden taste for extravagant drinks she doesn't even need was merely a distraction. Wondering about where she could have possibly picked it up from or even why is not important. What was important was trying to figure out what to do now since his latest scheme ended in tragic, bitter failure.

Now, admittedly Plankton still can't believe things went as well as they did... Even if the scheme still ended in failure, as had many before it. But that was something that has become a very typical planktonic affair for almost two, maybe three decades now. But the _real_ shocker is the fact that Krabs would only wreck the entire thing by complete accident, not even catching on or trying to put a stop to his plans! Fully complacent in the affair, as he had been in only a few odd attempts prior.

Krabs had fallen for the bait, and Plankton had come so _infuriatingly_ close to securing the recipe for the Krabby Patty secret formula. It's amazing what acting coy and batting your eyelashes at the right intervals could do when combined with flirtatious banter and a solid meet cute... 

"So-" Karen drew attention to herself once more, with a recording of a cough that was most certainly not hers- "What's the plan today, genius?"

"I haven't thought of something quite yet, Karen." Plankton sighed, glancing at the sarcastic computer. "It's still so early in the morning, why don't you give me a break."

"It's not like I'm particularly interested in the formula, but I would like to know ahead of time how much I'm expected to participate for the sake of scheduling."

Plankton turned around in his seat, which was situated on top of one of their standard sized tables, to glare at her. His single little eyebrow furrowed in agitation.

"Scheduling? SCHEDULING?! What could you possibly have to do that is more important than this, Karen!"

At this outburst, Karen's immediate reaction was to scoff.

"I don't know, hanging out with my friends?" She turned her monitor away and mockingly pressed a finger to her monitor in a display of contemplative thought. "Or literally _anything_ else?"

"Oh, couldn't you at least _pretend_ to care this early in the morning?"

"Fine, if that's what you want," she conceded with a sigh, and poured some of her coffee into her gas tank.

And of course, as soon as this little scheme blew up in his face - literally - Plankton had left the hotel and rushed right to the Chum Bucket with no hesitation. He had been ready to immediately start ranting at his exhausted and lagging computer wife about the night's events, however the only response given to him that night would be for Karen to shush him the moment he opened his mouth. And in the exhausted tones only a mother could master, he was simply told to go to bed with the promise that eventually, the two would come up with another scheme together. 

And now Karen was going to blow him off. Again!

He hadn't actually expected that Karen would even allow him to go through with a plan of that... particular nature, admittedly. Not without an argument, anyways, and yet there had been absolutely no qualms from her. Instead, she got right to work on the papier-mâché hair made of crisp dollar bills he asked for. Hopefully the counterfeit bills, but he didn't think to specify at the time. Come to think of it, when Plankton had proposed the idea of seducing the formula out of Krabs directly she barely even had a reaction at all.

... Besides a put-upon sigh, perhaps. When _wasn't_ she sighing dramatically because of his schemes, though. She just couldn't understand his genius. But if she had an issue with that specific plan, she clearly didn't feel up to discussing it. So of course he went ahead with it. And if she felt no need to comment, then it couldn't have possibly been a bad idea, right? And it almost worked, it was perfect - he only wishes he thought of it sooner. 

Most of the effort in the scheme had been devising the perfect sob-story that would truly add flavor to the so-called _meet cute_. Naturally, it had to be something that would be thematically appropriate for a sapient stack of dollars with a demure, feminine disposition. But it would also need to melt that idiotic crustacean's heart, as it certainly wouldn't do any good if the disguise were not romantically appealing outside of being a wad of cash. If he wanted his plan to work then he understood that as Cashina, he would need to be someone Krabs could envision a life with, someone he'd be willing to share his secrets with. 

They needed to have _chemistry_.

Even if he would hate to admit that perhaps Cashina's sob story had been inspired by thinking back on a particular loathsome display of high school romance from his youth. Krabs had always been so _easily_ manipulated, a fool in the name of love, crushing on just about any _nuisance_ who so much as dropped their books in his presence or bat their eyelashes at him, or told him some pathetic sob story between classes. Oh, he couldn't stand most of Krabs' exes, but he knew he hated _Lottie Cachola_ the most-

It wasn't important now.

"So, how was the honeymoon?" Karen asked in a tone that wasn't quite bitter but also not quite sincere, before continuing, "I noticed that it didn't take you, say, a decade or two to go on your honeymoon with Eugene."

"Oh, Please. Lay off it, Karen." Plankton rolled his eye and paused to swallow a mouthful of his cereal. "You KNOW it isn't like that at all. I was _using_ him."

"Right, right. Of course."

Something about Karen's tone in that response made Plankton feel ... seen, and not in a way he liked. So instead of dropping it like maybe it would have been wiser to do, he found himself continuing.

"Don't you think he would be a little suspicious if his precious little wifey didn't want to go on a honeymoon after the wedding?"

And Karen had nothing to say to that. Naturally, Plankton would only assume that it's because she realized he made a good point. In reality, it could more likely be described as more akin to bafflement at how little self-awareness Plankton seems to have at times.

He also almost wishes he could try it again, _that's_ how close it had come to succeeding. Plus, it was kind of... exciting, going through the whole charade of an _obviously_ fake relationship with him. There was definitely something to be said about the special kind of thrill in knowing he had his life-long rival, his greatest nemesis, wrapped around his delicate manicured finger without complaint. Knowing that he was dedicated to him, and him alone, it was - _It was_ -

Plankton nearly choked on his cereal.

"Are you okay over there?"

Someone who might not have known Karen quite as well as Plankton did might have almost mistaken her tone for genuine concern, but she knew he was fine. And Plankton knew that she knew, and he resented the fact she felt the need to comment.

"Yes, yeah, I'm -" he couldn't help but stutter, and not just because he almost choked, "- Of course I'm FINE, Karen, why wouldn't I be? Don't worry about it!"

As the coughing died down, Plankton thoughtfully rubbed circles onto the table surface with his nub. It was such a brilliant scheme…

But Krabs would certainly be on guard if Plankton tried anything similar so soon after it's failure. Which meant that the idea would have to be put on the back-burner for a good long while, _if_ he ever wanted to attempt something even remotely like it again. Coming up with new plans would be as easy as eating cake, though. Though maybe it's building the tools to assist him with those plans that may be a bit more on the troublesome side.

Presumably, he'd still have his ever-faithful computer wife by his side to work on that side of things, so maybe not that troublesome. With inquiry, he looked up to address the very same computer wife.

"Karen, do I have any blueprints I haven't used yet?"

"I'm afraid not - wait," Karen thought for a minute- "Wait, yes, I believe there are a few in one of the closets."

"One of the closets? That really helps narrow it down."

"Sorry, I don't remember _which_ closet. I think the upstairs closet next to the bathroom, but I haven't gone through it recently."

"You'd really think the computer would be a little better at... remembering things..."

"Oh, don't get snippy with me. In case you've forgotten, organic life forms such as yourself have a little problem where the brain periodically tosses out irrelevant memories to make room for new ones." she tilted her monitor downwards, as the visage of a local disc property tab took over her screen, "I may be able to store more information than you, but periodically I have to toss out irrelevant files too."

"You don't need to explain biology or computer science to me, Karen!" Plankton pounded his fists on the table like a petulant child. "I went to college!"

Karen could only press a palm to her monitor, in her best impression of a facepalm possible despite lacking what would ordinarily be considered a face, in response to that.

"Sheldon, I'm not going to fight with you about this. I'm just going to go look for those blueprints, and you're going to calm down."

And so that's exactly what would happen, though not without passive-aggressive grumbling and muttering. 

Karen went to go look for the box of blueprints Plankton wanted, and when she finally found them she brought them to the grumpy copepod. He was clearly finished eating cereal, bowl no longer in sight, and had relocated from the designated eating area to a section of his laboratory. Which only meant that he was ready for business - the business being mechanical engineering for nefarious purposes, of course.

"Alright," Plankton began, chuckling maniacally while rubbing his nefarious little copepod nubs together, "Let's get to work, Karen."


End file.
